


Come and Suffer Here

by pkg4mumtown



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, that's literally it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 10:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20329417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkg4mumtown/pseuds/pkg4mumtown
Summary: You're tired, he's tired, and all you both want to do is sleep.





	Come and Suffer Here

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from a friend on Tumblr.

_You'll find me holding my breath for you_

_It's never more than I can take_

_I wouldn't have it any other way_

_You'll find me on my knees for you_

_It's never more than I can take_

_I wouldn't have it any other way_

—Mumford & Sons, “Slip Away”

I was a nervous wreck while waiting for John to come home. He told me earlier that he would be home by eleven, but it was now two in the morning and I had yet to hear from him. I chewed nervously at my lips as I stood at the kitchen counter, ready to ambush him when he got home. I wasn’t mad at him for being later than he said, I was simply worried. Dog glanced over at me from his spot on the couch, silently begging me to join him. I couldn’t. I wanted to make sure John got home to us.

I checked my phone for the hundredth time, nearly throwing my phone down when I heard the door rattle. I padded hastily over to the door to hug him and make sure he was alright. I saw his face lit by the dim lights of the entryway, a surprised expression gracing his features at my presence.

John had barely shut and locked the door before I was approaching him with my hands cupping his jaw. Right away, I noticed that he turned around with a limp. I examined his face, seeing a few cuts but noticing his tired expression more. I let him fall into my embrace while my hands skimmed across the rest of his body to make sure he wasn’t bleeding. He didn’t lean his whole weight on me, but it was enough to have to counter balance.

“I’m fine,” he sighed tiredly into my hair.

I shot a glare at him, clearly not believing him, “Sure you are.”

“It’s just my knee, I’ll be fine tomorrow,” John reassured me as he straightened up and attempted to take a step in the direction of the stairs.

His knee was unstable as his adrenaline had already worn down, causing him to stumble and reach out for me. I caught him, helping him balance himself and throwing him a pointed look. John’s lips thinned in frustration, but he was too tired to fight himself. He visibly slumped against me once more, allowing more of his weight to transfer to me.

“How about the guest bedroom tonight?” I proposed, since it was downstairs and had a bathroom.

“I can make it upstairs,” John pushed.

“My love, please,” I was on the verge of pleading while sifting my fingers through his hair. He sighed reluctantly, preferring to not show weakness but he was too exhausted to fight me on the matter.

I wrapped my arm around his waist and tried to help him stumble over to the guest bedroom. His face contorted into a grimace as he stepped, clearly biting back a grunt as he limped. The second step was more unstable, a louder groan passed through his lips causing me to stop. He leaned on my side heavily while I thought of a faster way to get him to the guest bedroom.

“Let me carry you, John,” I suggested while maneuvering myself to stand in front of him.

“No, Y/N, I can do it,” he huffed impatiently, more at himself than me.

“Jonathan…” I murmured softly, bringing his eyes to mine from where he stared off at some random point in the house.

“You’re going to hu—,” he started, but stopped when he saw my eyebrows shoot up as I realized what he was about to say. He was too tired to argue about whether I could carry him or not, so he gave up almost as soon as the protest came out of his mouth.

“Care to finish?” I tilted my head at him.

“No,” he sighed.

“Good.”

I grabbed his wrist on the uninjured side of his body and straightened his arm up. I squatted slightly and hooked my other arm around his uninjured leg, letting his body drape over my shoulders as I straightened my legs. I slowly, but faster than when he was using me as a crutch, “fireman” carried him to the guest bedroom, mindful to not jostle his legs too much. I probably could have taken him upstairs at that point, but being this tired, it might not have ended well for either of us.

I bypassed the bed and headed for the bathroom, shuffling in to the space sideways so I didn’t hit his head or legs in the doorway. I let him down slowly and gently, making sure that he put his weight on his good leg before letting him stand on his own. John started undressing himself while I filled the tub with hot water. I checked under the sink, thankful that I had started keeping Epsom salt and shower supplies in this bathroom, too, despite it being rarely used. I helped him out of his trousers while letting him use me for balance, tossing the last of his clothes with the rest in heap on the bathroom floor. I poured the Epsom salt in, then helped him step in to the tub and lay down without slipping or losing balance. I set the soaps on the edge of the tub before directing my attention back to John.

“I’ll be right back,” I told him while running my fingers through his hair briefly. His eyes fluttered shut as he nodded weakly.

I made my way upstairs, grabbing a change of clothes, left over pills that the Doctor had given him, and a towel. I headed back to the room, seeing Dog already assuming his position at the foot of the guest bed. I set the change of clothes on the counter and hung the towel before I kneeled on the rug next to the tub. I dipped my hands in the water so I could wet his hair.

John’s head lolled toward me, his eyes opening and meeting mine, “Come in with me?” he mumbled.

“I already showered, love,” I smiled at his tired eyes as I continued to wet his hair.

“Please?” he raised his eyebrows, shifting the fresh cuts and old scars that marred his face.

Who was I to tell him no? I stood and removed my pajamas, placing them next to his on the countertop. I placed a gentle hand on his back, indicating for him to scoot forward so I could sit behind him. He lowered himself back, resting his head on my chest while I poured shampoo into my hands. I ran my fingers through his tangled locks, watching the dirt and blood of the day mix with the soap and water. John’s body fell limp as I continued rubbing at his scalp, while his chest produced low sighs of appreciation. I let my hands travel down the sides of his face, allowing my nails to gently scratch at his beard. He tilted his head back further, nuzzling his cheeks into my fingers as a silent plea to continue. He let out a content sigh as his lips pressed a kiss to the side of my hand while I raked my fingers over his chin.

I washed away the shampoo and repeated my actions with the conditioner, opting to leave it in for now while I lathered a wash cloth. I washed his body as far as I could reach, scrubbing the skin of his upper body until I couldn’t reach any further. He didn’t care, he simply laid back and enjoyed it until I had to push him up to scrub his back. I handed him the cloth after, so he could finish off his lower body. I rinsed the rest of him shortly after and squeezed out from behind him out of the lukewarm water.

I hastily patted myself dry, then offered John a hand to help him stand up so he didn’t slip on the slick surface of the tub. I dressed myself before helping him, knowing he really only needed stability for his lower garments. We hobbled over to the bed, where I pulled the covers back and let him scoot himself in. John’s fingers reluctantly grabbed the pill bottle and took them dry with a grimace.

John’s heavy sigh and Dog’s snoring filled the air, as we laid in relative silence for a moment. I heard his head turn toward me, prompting me to do the same. I could barely make out the feature of his face in the dark, but I didn’t need to imagine much.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice full of guilt for me having to care for him.

“John, I wouldn’t have you any other way,” I smiled, laying my hand on his cheek and kissing the corner of his mouth. “Turn around.”

He did so, slowly, so he wouldn’t jostle his knee and settled into a comfortable position. I slid closer to him, wrapping an arm under his neck and another over him to rest on his abdomen. He laced his fingers with mine, bringing our hands higher up his chest until they rested over his heart.

“Thank you,” his tired voice whispered gruffly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, John.”


End file.
